Lady Luck (Colorado Mountain #3)(115)

“Come again?”

“Thought you were lost for eleven hours.”

His hand stopped stroking and both arms closed tight around me.

“The la… la… last thing I told you wa… was that we were a nightmare.”

“Mama, breathe,” he whispered.

I sucked in breath and it hitched so many times, the sound was as painful as the hitches actually were, my body bucking violently with each and Ty growled in my ear.

Then he snarled, “I’m gonna f**kin’ kill Julius.”

My body bucked again as my breath snagged audibly and I pressed closer.

Ty fell to the side and I was holding so tight, I went with him. Then I was on my back on the couch and I felt Ty’s long body stretch out beside mine, his heavy leg tangling with mine the instant I straightened them and when I felt his torso press deep to my side and partially over mine, I loosened my arms enough for him to pull back. Then I let my head fall to the couch and I looked at him through watery eyes.

Then my breath hitched and my body bucked again.

“Fuck,” he bit off, his hand coming to my face, pulling hair away, wet hair that was sticking to my wet cheeks. “Lexie, baby, you got played. I’m right here.”

I nodded. “I know.”

Hair gone from both sides of my face, his big, warm hand cupped the right side, his thumb moving over my cheek, sweeping through the wetness as his face got close and I looked into his eyes, still the most beautiful feature I’d seen on any face in my life.

“So,” he whispered, “get a handle on it.”

And I did.

Two handles actually. Both hands went right to his head and pulled it down to me.

Then I was kissing him.

Then he was kissing me.

Oh yes. That was better.

Then I was pulling off his tee. Then he was tugging off mine.

Then I was yanking at his belt. Then his h*ps knifed away but only so he could undo and haul off my jeans and my flip-flops went flying as he did. Then went my panties.

Then he rolled over me, I opened my legs, his h*ps slid between, his hand was working between us to finish the job I started while his mouth was working mine, his tongue inside, I was tasting him again, God, God, brilliant, beautiful.

Mine.

Then his h*ps moved back then surged forward and he was inside me.

My mouth tore from his as my neck arched.

God, God. Brilliant. Beautiful.

Mine.

He rode me fast, hard and I welcomed him, circling his h*ps with my legs, my hands hungry, roaming, my mouth hungrier, latched to his, drinking then I couldn’t drink anymore and our lips brushed close as our heavy breath mingled and there it was, there it always was, so close, so huge, then he rolled his h*ps and hit the spot and all four of my limbs clutched him to me as I cried out when I came.

It took Ty two minutes longer, one minute I was in no state to watch, the next one I did with avid, devoted concentration.

After, his head dropped forward and his face disappeared in my neck.

His c**k was buried deep. My limbs were still holding him tight.

Healthy.

Alive.

Gorgeous.

Breathing.

In one piece.

Deep in me.

Ty.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“One way to get you to calm the f**k down and stop crying,” he said against the skin of my neck and my body went still. His head came up; he looked down at me and grinned. “Divorce papers are on the counter, mama. You want me to get up and go get ‘em so you can sign ‘em?”

I decided I’d get pissed later at the belated but highly inappropriate show that he had a very good sense of humor.

Instead I declared, “You get up and go anywhere, I’m tackling you.”

His body shook as his grin spread to a smile. Then he asked, “You honestly think you can tackle me?”

“I didn’t say it would be a successful tackle.”

And then my husband burst out laughing.

And I watched.

He didn’t give this to me often but I always watched. This time it was way better because he was doing it while still inside me.

Then his laughter died to a chuckle, he dropped his forehead to mine and his hand came up and curled around the side of my neck.

And when he did the last, the laughter died, his eyes held mine and he whispered, “Is my mama home?”

I swallowed but I still knew my eyes got bright and my voice was husky when I whispered back, “Yes.”

He closed his eyes, shifted the lower half of his face and touched his mouth to mine. Then he lifted his head away, opened his eyes and I felt his thumb stroke my jaw.

His gaze again locked with mine, he told me gently, “Missed you, baby.”

I swallowed again and my arms and legs tightened around him. “Me too.”

“Do not ever leave me like that again,” he ordered.

I decided not to remind him he told me to.

Instead, I said softly, “Okay.”

He stared at me. Then he said softly back, “Okay.”

Then he bent his head, touched his mouth to mine, pulled gently out and then he reached out a long arm, tagged my underwear, shifted his lower half and pulled my panties up my legs. Then he rolled off me and got to his feet, righting his jeans as he moved. I lifted up, my torso turning and twisting to keep him in my sights as he walked to the kitchen. Then I watched, my chin on my arm resting on the back of the couch, as he tagged a manila envelope from the counter, walked to the junk drawer at the side, dug through it and found what he wanted. Then I watched him walk to the kitchen sink. He dug out a bunch of dishes and put them on the counter (at a glance, it was very clear Ty was not tidy, so I kept it solely at a glance).